Of Fairy Tail, the Heiress of Feanor and the Third Age
by The Lordaeron Paladin
Summary: The First Age had long ended, yet its consequences were far-reaching. Maedhros, once a Noldor prince, now reincarnated as a maimed girl in Earthland, is still plagued by the Oath his late father and brothers had taken. Whether this should lead the Fairy Tail guild that had taken her in to their greatest renown or their most grievous woe, nobody can tell...


**Disclaimers: **The Silmarillion is the creation of J. R. R. Tolkien and the property of the Tolkien estate. Fairy Tail is the creation and property of Hiro Mashima. The Last Days of the Third Age of Middle Earth and Third Age Total War, which will be referenced multiple times in this story, are the property of TLD mod team and Third Age team respectively, except for the base games, which are property of Taleworlds Entertainment and The Creative Assembly respectively. I own** nothing**, except maybe the hackneyed plot of this fanfic.

**A/N: **1) This story is intended to be a filler-esque event that takes place between the 7-year Time Skip and the current Tournament arc.

2) I'm applying Tolkien's idea of elvish _fea _and _hroa _very, _very_ liberally here – Tolkien mentioned that when an elf dies, his soul would return to the Hall of Mandos, where, depending on a host of factors, the soul might stay there or be reincarnated into a body identical to the first. Here, Maedhros gets reincarnated into a body that is _mostly_ identical to what he had when he cast himself into a fiery chasm – his right hand was missing, his left hand was burnt by the Silmaril he stole, and the rest of his body was singed by the fire. So he gets reborn into a little girl's body with all of the aforementioned injuries.

**Prologue**

"**Maedhros"**

"_Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Fëanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever."_

_- The Doom of Mandos -_

It all began with a meeting with a traveling bard in the most unlikely of places.

Erza had forgotten why she had taken that left turn on that particular fork on the way back to the Fairy Tail guild house after just another day on a mission. By the time she realized she'd walked the wrong path, the fresh scent of the ocean had convinced her to not turn back. She found herself strolling on a high road, with a cliff facing the sea to her right. The salty scent of the ocean amid the cool evening breeze under the moonlight was most refreshing. Quickly the swordswoman ex-quipped a loose-fitting cotton robe, perfect for a midnight stroll.

It was there that she met them.

Wandering along the coast was one insignificant bard, barefooted, dressed in age-old rags and carrying what looked like a very old harp. A red-headed girl, also dressed in tatters and rags trailed after him, her head hung low in misery. The duo seemed like the typical beggar-bards that would show up in prosperous towns once every so often to make themselves some jewels. What they were doing out there in the wilderness rather than in the streets and plazas of Earthland's many big cities was not immediately obvious. Curious, Erza decided to follow them, readying some spare change in her hands for the needy.

As she drew closer to the duo, her face grimaced at the sorry state of them both. The bard was crooked, haggard and boney, as though he had not had a good meal for as long as he could remember. The girl, on the other hand, was utterly pitiable. Where her right hand was supposed to be, now only a stump remained. Half of her face, between her forehead and the left side of her jaw, was blighted with a horrible burn scar. And when the swordswoman got close enough to spy her remaining hand with her eagle eyes, she realized the girl's left palm had another, huge burn scar in a perfect circle shape

And then all of a sudden, the bard began to sing, plucking the strings of his harp as his voice took flight despite the blatant lack of audience. The moment the red-haired swordswoman heard the first note, she almost dropped the bill in her hands in astonishment. Either his voice was infused with magic, or he was just that gifted with the delicate art of music. The swordswoman found herself brought to tears by the sheer beauty of his voice, the melancholy of the song's melody and the skill of the hand plucking the strings.

The song lasted for almost half an hour, during which the bard had very nearly become one with the song he sang. Not a word did Erza understand, for the song itself was sung in a foreign language totally alien to her ears – or those of anyone she knew, for that matter. It was beyond obvious this man was a foreigner. Maybe even an off-worlder. Someone from Edolas, perhaps, or some dimension beyond. But that made no sense – throughout her life Erza had seen no-one who speak in such a strange language, be it in Edolas or back in Earthland. What she could barely make out was the very last word in the lyric, before the bard stopped singing and put his harp away.

"Noldolante*?"

She said too loudly, for barely had she realized her blurting when the duo whirled around towards her with the kind of grace and dexterity unimaginable. At least, to normal humans untrained in combat magic.

"I'm sorry," the swordswoman said with an elegant bow. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

The bard raised his hand and pointed at his ear – long and elongated – before shakign his head, as though signifying he understood not a single word she just said.

"You can't understand what I said?"

More blank look and shaking of head, from both the bard and the little girl. And then all of a sudden, the bard began to gesture wildly, laughing and crying and shouting in the unknown language as he did so, as though he was not entirely sane to begin with.

"I'm sorry?" Erza's eyelids tingled with a very confused look. "What do you mean?"

At that very moment, the cloud above Erza began to disperse, and the full moon began to glaze its radiance on her long, flowing red hair. Upon seeing her hair and its color, the bard began to jump up and down in what could be read as ecstasy. Then he pointed at the little girl, then at the swordswoman, then made a hugging gesture.

"You want me... to give her a hug?"

Something tugged at Erza's heartstrings. There the little redhead girl stood, looking utterly dejected and helpless, her humanity as tattered as the clothing she wore. Just like herself as a slave back then. And then Erza noticed the girl's ears, long and pointed, more like a demon than any human she had met. Maybe that was why she was run out of wherever she was living, just like the bard? She felt like crying a little, but she held back. With a graceful move, she knelt down and scooped the girl up in her arms.

At first the girl was scared, as would any little girl upon being held by a stranger. But then suddenly something clicked in her heart, maybe, for soon she started to lift her little lips and smiled as Erza's arms tightened around her.

"Does she have a name?" Erza asked the bard, gesturing towards the girl, and then pointed at her mouth, hoping he would get it.

It seemed that he did.

"Mae... dhros..." he said, slowly and almost unintelligibly.

"Mai Rose?" repeated Erza, missing the accent by a mile and a half. She was happy with her interpretation, however, and made no effort to correct herself. "That's a lovely name. It suits you, now doesn't it?"

She tried to break out a smile at the girl, finding it much, much more difficult than she would have liked. The girl's sorry state was almost difficult to look at. Erza could not bear to look at her for long without breaking down in tears. What kind of monsters would do this to a little girl?

"I... I happen to belong to a magic guild," Erza said with a congested voice, "the Fairy Tail guild, one of the best," she looked a the bard, still desperately trying to smile. "Would you... would you like to follow me there? We will shelter you both, I promise..."

"_Hanta, ettelea**_," said the bard, shaking his palm. Then he looked towards the sea, bowed sadly, before opening his mouth.

"_A Elbereth! Gilthoniel!***_" he sang, softly, yet sadly and full of conviction. The song lasted for a good five minutes, filled with foreign, yet sweet-sounding syllables.

After he had sung the last word, he looked back at the girl sorrowfully.

"_Namarie! Namarie, hanno! Namarie!****_" he cried.

And then without warning, he cast himself, harp and all, off the cliff. In hindsight, Erza should have seen it coming. With her hands busy with the girl, Erza could never react fast enough to save the bard. When she finally managed to lay the girl down and run to the cliff, the bard had vanished beneath the cruel tide, as did his harp, leaving but a single shadow. Hurriedly she ex-quipped the newly conceived Water Emperor armor – courtesy of Juvia – and leaped into the ocean after him.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the ocean, empty-handed. The unfortunate bard had vanished, as though melting into the foam itself. Dejected, she leaped back up to the cliffside.

There, the handicapped girl with flowing red hair was standing, looking extremely confused. Lost. She stared at Erza, like a drowning man grasping at straw, helpless and desperate.

This time, Erza could not hold back her tears any longer.

She hugged the girl tightly, tears freely flowing down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." she sobbed.

For all that Erza cried, the little girl did not. Whether it was because she was too young to understand the concept of life and death, or because she was more steeled of soul and stout of heart than Erza herself, nobody would ever know.

That was seven years ago.

That was how the girl with one hand and a cruelly burnt body Mai Rose became a member of Fairy Tail.

That was how the story of the Fairy Tail guild began to intertwine inseparably with the events of the last days of the Third Age of Middle Earth.

**Notes:**

* Quenya: "Fall of the Noldor" - the most famous and most tragic of Maglor's songs, that tells of the plight of his brothers, the Dispossessed Sons of Feanor, driven to ruins by their quest to regain the Silmarili.

** Quenya: "Thank you, stranger"

*** Quenya: "O Elbereth! Starkindler!" - the beginning of the elvish hymn "A Elbereth Gilthoniel".

**** Quenya: "Farewell! Farewell, brother! Farewell!"

Any mistake in translation, I would in-character chalk it down to Maglor having been _insane for like a few millennia now_ to begin with.


End file.
